


Welcome to the Neighbourhood

by GarnetSeren



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Love Confessions, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Self Confidence Issues, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-04-25 14:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarnetSeren/pseuds/GarnetSeren
Summary: From the minute they met, Hancock is mesmerised by Nora, though tries not to examine his budding feelings for her too closely. However, despite his best efforts, Hancock can't help his growing feelings for her; she's gorgeous, fearless, kind; nothing short of amazing, so of course he's falling for her. But he knows who and what he is, so there's no chance she'd even look at him twice... it there?***Title inspired by the Meatloaf album of the same name. The three oneshots: Lost Boys and Golden Girls, 45 Seconds of Ecstasy and If I Can't Have You have been moved here.***





	1. Lost Boys and Golden Girls

When Hancock first laid eyes on Nora, he'd never have guessed she was a vault dweller... former vault dweller, if you could even consider cryogenic stasis as dwelling... but that was a digression.

When Nora had breezed into Good Neighbour, donned in what Hancock later found out was the Minuteman General regalia, with a shifty looking Deacon...

Yes, he knew Deacon; or as much about Deacon as the agent's lies permitted. You didn't turn a blind eye to an outfit like the Railroad, unless you knew they were up to the type of no good you could get behind. Granted, Hancock usually dealt with Glory, but he'd crossed passed with Deacon plenty of times too....

But once again, that was digressing.

When Hancock had first met Nora, after the unfortunate situation with Finn had been dealt with; not that she'd needed his assistance for one moment... and after he'd managed to stop drooling over her... because no one, and he meant no _one_ looked like she did.

Luscious auburn waves that fell to her shoulders, curves that had no place off a pre-war billboard, porcelain pale skin, vivid green eyes that were highlighted with dark eyeliner, and brilliant red lips that just begged to be kissed.

And once again, Hancock was digressing... but a woman like Nora... well, she just made him lose his cool, just a little.

She'd captured his attention the minute she'd sauntered into his life. Bomb shell looks, a quick wit, shrewd intelligence, and an easy smile that could light up the darkest day.

He'd heard talk of the Minutemen reforming, and looking at Nora in all her glory, Hancock could see why she was chosen to lead them. If he hadn't seen her pip-boy peeking out from beneath her purple coat sleeve, he'd never have guessed she'd grown up anywhere other than the commonwealth wasteland.

It wasn't until later; much later... several weeks in fact... that he knew more about the enigmatic woman.

After the whole debacle with Bobbi No-Nose, where Nora and MacCready had been duped into pulling a heist on him; finding out the pair had rounded on Bobbi, the moment Fahrenheit had confronted them all, had touched Hancock in a way he couldn't explain...

And he probably didn't want to examine why he grinned almost manically, when his body guard had explained how Nora hadn't hesitated to put a bullet in Bobbi's brain, _and_ cursed her corpse before it even hit the floor.

That was the type of loyalty no caps or chems could buy, and Hancock was surprised he'd already gained that sort of respect from the Minuteman general.

He also hadn't expected Nora to turn up at his door later that night, clad in black leather pants and a faded purple checked shirt, sheepishly offering him a bottle of whiskey and a sincere apology.

Before Hancock could even stop himself, he'd offered her caps... a thank you for her loyalty, which she'd surprisingly refused. He'd offered her chems, which she smiled but shook her head at. As a last ditched attempt to keep Nora with him a little longer... which Hancock definitely didn't want to examine... he'd offered her some of the whiskey she'd brought.

She'd chuckled then, that damned smile of hers lighting up the room, and easily accepted his offer.

They'd drank well into the night, and as the first pink fingers of dawn peeked over the city's rooftops, Hancock found himself offering to go with Nora on her travels. He'd been disappointed when she'd politely declined; not believing for one moment the whole 'I have something I need to do first, but then I'll be back' spiel, presuming she just didn't want a ghoul travelling with her; not that he could blame her... but that was up until that turn out to be true.

A week after Nora had left him feeling pathetic and embarrassed by her rejection, Hancock had managed to spy her again, as he stood on his balcony enjoying a smoke.

She almost tripped out of the Memory Den, and even at his distance, Hancock could see the distraught look on her face.

He figured she'd just had a bad trip in one of Irma's pods, until Nick Valentine of all people, had rushed out after her. From his vantage point, Hancock had watched as the synth detective pulled Nora into a firm hug, which was a surprise in itself.

In all the years he'd know Nick, he'd never seen the synth so much as touch another person before; some sort of hidden self-loathing, that Hancock could all too easily understand. But now the detective was holding the redhead to him like his life depended on it. What was more surprising, was how Nora buried her head in Nick's chest, her arms circling his waist without a care.

Not many people liked synths as even an idea, let alone as a physical being. But there was the new powerful leader of the Minutemen, openly hugging probably the most recognisably synth in all the commonwealth... it blew Hancock's mind a little... or perhaps that was just the jet, he wasn't entirely sure. Not that it mattered, since he sent Fahrenheit to intercept the pair regardless.

Hancock learnt a lot about Nora that night, so much so, that he'd popped almost a full pack of mentats just trying to keep up.

Learning that she was an _original_ vault dweller, easily won the shock factor. Though that only slightly dwarfed the surprise that Nora hadn't recoiled, when Hancock had automatically moved to hold her hand, whilst she tearfully recounted what had happened to her family.

Nick had sat on her other side, stroking the redhead's arm encouragingly, as he recounted their visit to the Memory Den.

It was a lot to digest, even with the help of his beloved grape flavoured mentats, so much so that Hancock almost missed when Nora had asked if his offer was still on the table.

Smiling somewhat dopily, he insisted she take his bed that night; choosing to hide his face and stupid grin under his tricorn hat, as he flopped onto the sofa opposite Nick, to catch a few hours of shut eye. And as much as Hancock despised Diamond City, he did get a kick out of being smuggled into the place that used to be his home.

That was how he found himself in the Valentine's Detective Agency, along with Nick and Nora, as well as the synth's secretary; Ellie, and Diamond City's friendly neighbourhood reporter; Piper.

The three green jewel residents had taken up the only chairs in the office, whilst Hancock had settled himself on the floor near Nick; his back pressed up against one of the overflowing filling cabinets. Nora had decided to perch on the edge of Ellie's desk.

Trying not to be obvious, Hancock watched as the redhead yawned and stretched; the movement making the bottom of her once blue tank top ride up; revealing a creamy flash of skin, just above the waistband of her ripped jeans.

“You've got no hair!” Piper squealed, suddenly.

Nora patted her luscious auburn locks, obviously perplexed, which made the reporter huff in amusement.

“No, under your arms Blue,” she clarified.

The former vault dweller raised an eyebrow, still seeming confused.

“Yeah...” she said at length. “Laser therapy. Everyone had it done... well every woman really, the occasional man too I guess. I know our next door neighbour; Stanley, and his husband had regular sessions.”

“So what, you used to use lasers to zap away hair?” Ellie asked.

“Well, you'd go to beauty salon for the treatments, but yeah... kinda,” Nora confirmed.

“Where else?” Piper chimed in.

Nora's brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“Where else did you get zapped?”

The red head snorted, rolling her vibrant green eyes, before holding a hand up just beneath her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“From there down,” she clarified, non-plused. “Though I had my eyebrows shaped as well, obviously.”

Hancock desperately tried not to react to _that_ piece of information; subtly readjusting how he was seated, so that his frock coat fell just so. The three women in the room didn't seem to notice, though it wasn't much of a surprise that Nick did, and the synth chuckled quietly to himself.

Hancock barely managed to withhold his huff of annoyance, and desperately tried _not_ to picture what Nora looked like naked. Piper's derisive snort helped to distract him.

“Obviously...” the reporter snipped.

“What about your make up?” Ellie asked, cheerily. “It's just so... perfect. Actually, I'd never seen make up outside of magazine or billboard, before meeting you.”

“Tattoos,” Nora replied, shrugging. “Easiest way to ensure you looked your best at all times.”

“Not exactly pain free though,” the secretary shuddered.

“Beauty is pain was a big phrase, back before the bombs,” Nick enlightened.

Nora sighed dramatically. “Don't remind me. I just had my lips and eyeliner done. Some women had their whole eyelids tattooed to look like eye shadow. Erm... that was a coloured powered we put on our eyelids, usually to either enhance our eye colour, or match what outfit we wore. Laser hair removal stung a little, but nowhere near as uncomfortable as getting permanent make up done.”

“It was the nails that always got me,” Nick chimed in, reclining in his chair. “What were they again... gel nails? Always in bright, gaudy colours.”

Nora looked down at her hands, a little guiltily. “I had magenta nails when I came out of the vault,” she said, sheepishly. “Didn't last too long out here. The radiation in the water pretty much disintegrated them within a week... saying that, I'm surprised my skin is still in one piece.”

She patted her soft looking cheeks. “God! I miss my creams... they use to make this amazing one, smelt like roses... umm, that was a really pretty flower. Came in a variety of colours, though the most popular were red or pink. Very soft and fragrant petals, but the stems had thorns on them.”

Nick chuckled. “You're still pretty as a picture, doll.”

The smile the redhead flashed the detective made Hancock's stomach churn. Not that it wasn't already sinking to his boots, at her revelation.

Even though he knew Nora hadn't meant what she said as a jibe at him, he fought the irrational urge to touch his own face. His skin was withered and pockmarked, tough as leather and burned to a reddish-brown hue.

He knew he must look repulsive to someone as stunning as Nora, and that was before Hancock considered she'd grown up in a time where ghouls hadn't existed; not to mention the fact that there were several features he was now missing... his nose and most of his ears being the most obvious.

However, the sound of Nora's musical laughter pulled Hancock out of his self-depreciating spiral.

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” she giggled.

“Only the beautiful ones,”Nick smiled back.

Hancock blinked. _Shit_. He was half impressed and half annoyed that Valentine was putting the moves on Nora.

Not that he could blame the synth; the former vault dweller was as drop dead gorgeous as any of the pre-war pin-ups, that still graced the faded billboards and odd magazine that had survived.

But still, Hancock had barely kept in check the urge to flirt with Nora himself... often failing miserably. And now he was watching one of his oldest friends, make a move on the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on; what was worse, was the redhead seemed to enjoy the old detective's attention.

 _Shit._ Hancock knew he'd really dropped the ball, letting Nick beat him in the charm department.

“Are they flirting? They're flirting, aren't they?!” Piper asked Ellie, incredulously.

The secretary merely chuckled, seeming unphased by the pair openly making eyes at each other... not that they were _really_ doing that, Hancock supposed. If anything, the look the two just shared seemed more like a pair of cohorts about to conspire together, rather than two people with any romantic interest in each other.

Just at that moment, Nora caught _his_ eye and winked. Hancock couldn't help but grin, as he watched her gracefully rise from her seat, and practically sashayed over to where he and Nick sat.

He was hard pressed laugh, as Nora gave an unsubtle wiggle of her hips, before seating herself on the detective's knee. Though Hancock couldn't help his huff of amusement, as the redhead took an exaggerated drag from the cigarette that Nick held suggestively to her lips.

“What's a dame like you, doing in a place like this?” the synth asked.

“Fella done me wrong,” Nora replied, her voice uncharacteristically breathless and sultry.

Ellie snorted from across the room. “This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Nora's head snapped up, her dazzling sunny grin directed at the other woman. “Play it again, Sam.”

“You know, that line is actually misquoted...” Nick began.

“We know!” Nora and Ellie chorused together, before devolving into a fit of giggles.

It was time for Hancock and Piper to share a look.

“I think we're missing something,” he mused.

Hancock was surprised when Nora leant over from where she was still perched on Nick's knee, and rested her smooth hand against his mangled cheek. He was even more surprised, when she didn't recoil or even pull a face, at what must have been a disgusting feeling for her.

“Sorry, sorry,” she grinned. “Just didn't expect anyone out here to know about my favourite movie.”

“Casablanca is a classic,” Nick stated. “I managed to salvage an old holo of it a few years back. You're welcome to it, if Ellie hasn't worn it out from watching it so much.”

Ellie maturely pulled her tongue at her boss. “It still works, wise guy.”

 


	2. Objects in the Rear View Mirror

They'd been travelling together for a week; trekking all over the Commonwealth for Nora to tend to the various settlements she'd established, and in that time, Hancock had become more and more impressed the redhead.

Just running Good Neighbour could be a strain, but hear this woman was, managing half a dozen; _and_ leading the Minute Men. Not only that, Nora would help _anyone_ who asked her. Some of it she did for caps of course; just like anybody else. But then, Hancock would watch her go out of her way for someone, without wanting anything in return... like what she'd done for Kent, with the Silver Shroud shit.

Nora was just... too fucking good, and it made Hancock feel even more of a bastard, for how the whole Bobbi No-Nose crap went down. He'd never outright said anything, and she'd never confronted him about it, but Hancock had a feeling Nora knew he _knew_ what was happening.

So as the days turned into a full week; loosing count of the amount of times she covered his ass in a firefight, or patched him up after... even sharing her own supplies with him... Hancock decided it was high time to clear the air. The guilt was just weighing him down.

“Hey, mind if we talk now?” he asked.

They were hauled up in some rundown house, with barely any walls; huddled around a tiny camp fire, watching the first hint of dawn creep over the horizon, when he asked. Nora had agreed immediately, before she and her pooch shuffled closer to him; as a chill wind whipped through the draft shell. Hancock chuckled, leaning back against the wall behind him and took a hit of jet, before offering the canister to Nora... he wasn't too surprised she declined.

After that, he outright apologised for using her. She'd given him a side-ways look, and for a moment, Hancock thought she was going to tell him to fuck off; he wouldn't have begrudged her if she had, if he was being honest. But instead, Nora simply shrug, stating he was the one owing _her_ whiskey now.

Another hit of jet had Hancock telling her about his rise to power; from his cowardices, his change of heart, his determination, and how he'd overthrown Vic and his boys. He'd even touched on how he'd become a ghoul; not that Nora would have realised that. Still, it felt oddly... cathartic, to get it off his chest.

“I just hope you get where I'm coming from. I ain't out to bring harm to anyone that didn't earn it. Though I'm getting the distinct idea you got the same plan,” he concluded, throwing her a tight lipped smile. “And you've probably heard enough of me running my mouth for one day. Wanna get moving?”

Hancock was just about to get to his feet, intent on offering her a hand up, when Nora bumped her shoulder into his. He turned to her, surprised to find her smiling the smirk she usually reserved just for Nick. For some reason, it made him feel oddly special... like he'd earned something valuable.

“I'm always happy to listen to you, Hancock.”

Funnily enough, he had the feeling she meant it.

 


	3. Midnight at the Lost and Found

How Nora always got him to open up about things, Hancock wasn't sure. Maybe it was the bombshell looks the redhead had, that lulled him into a false sense of security? But he doubted it.

Nora was so sweet, kind, understanding, tolerant... as well as a total shotgun wielding badass. She was a completely contradiction; because someone _that_ deadly should not be such a sweetheart.

She was fond of saying it was because she was a lawyer, pre-war. Hancock had no idea what that was or why it explained anything, but the way Nick always nodded sagely, had him believing that it did.

Not that it really mattered.

She had his back in a fight _and_ out of it; which was certainly something Hancock wasn't used to. Oh, he had Fahrenheit and his men. Daisy, Irma, Charlie and K-L-E-O too. But he knew he wouldn't go spouting half as much bullshit to them, as he did to Nora.

Which was probably why Hancock found himself reclining back on a bed, in one of Nora's growing settlements, with her sat crossed legged at the bottom. He was coming down from a lovely mentats high... where he and Nora had talked extensively his namesake, despite her not taking a single pill... only to start spilling his guts about Diamond City and his fucking bastard of a brother.

He told her about his hatred for what, the rumours about the asshole being a synth; his anger, his guilt. His running to good neighbour, everything he'd ever kept bottled up about the whole shitstorm and how it still ate at him.

“I felt like I was the only one who saw how screwed up things truly were, who couldn't just pretend things were fine,” he stated, looking up at the patched ceiling. “Still feel that way... or I did. Until I met you.”

Hancock glanced over at Nora, when he felt her knee nudge the sole of his boot, and he found her regarding him with half a smile tugging the corner of her distractingly full lips. The light from the gas lantern illuminated her from behind, casting a warm glow to her fiery hair. She looked bloody beautiful, which was an observation Hancock found himself having more and more.

“You're a good man, Hancock,” Nora said, gently.

Her voice was sweet and warm, but what was even warmer and sweeter, was the way she leant over to rest her hand on his knee. His fingers twitched, and for one stupid moment, he debated rest his own withered hand over her much prettier one.

But then common sense made it's way through the drug haze; so even though he'd managed to push himself into seated position, Hancock only rested his gnarled hand companionably on her shirt covered shoulder.

Whether or not Nora noticed is aborted attempt, he didn't know. It also didn't matter, when she was smiling at him so radiantly; like his pathetic gesture actually meant something to her. Nora was something else, and even just her friendship, was more than he deserved. She was so bright and good.

She was like sunshine... and wasn't that poetic.

 


	4. 45 Seconds of Ecstasy

“Watch your step, or you may end up looking like me.”

He'd meant it playfully, or at least as playfully as you could be about a puddle full of radioactive water, but then Nora had to take it to a whole different level.

Not that it was a bad thing, necessarily.

Still, Hancock had been expecting some sort of witty come back from his travelling companion; instead, only silence met him.

A little nervously, he glanced over his shoulder at the redhead, and to his great surprise, found Nora giving him a blatant up and down. Hancock wasn't sure if he should primp or hide.

Sure, even after his ghoulification, he'd had no shortage of bedfellows... or at least, quick trysts where the bare minimum of clothing came off; if he was with a smooth-skin that was. Other ghouls were a slightly different matter, but still, he was always gone before morning.

No one deserved waking up to his ugly mug in the morning, least of all someone as wonderful as Nora. And swallowing audibly, Hancock pushed the thought out of his mind.

“Like what you see?” he grinned, trying to hide his growing nerves.

Once again, he was expecting some retort or other, some friendly tease about his appearance; or if he was really lucky, some of the lighthearted flirting, that she and Nick were basically known for. However, what he got was her vivid green eyes pinning him to the spot, and an almost feline smirk gracing her full lips.

“Perhaps.”

Nora's voice was practically a purr, and it sent an unexpected shiver down Hancock's spine.

Damn! He expected she drove men crazy back before the bombs. Hell, she drove men crazy now, because he certainly wasn't the only one that was wrapped around her oblivious little finger.

And Nora really was oblivious, she really couldn't see the effect her kind and helpful nature had on people. She couldn't even see what a bombshell she was; Hancock should know, because he may or may not have accidental eavesdropped her talking to Magnolia once. A mind blowing conversation where the singer had not-so-subtly hit on Nora, and left the redhead insisting she really wasn't anything special.

It just... seriously, it blew Hancock's mind.

Not that it really mattered, when his gaze fatefully fell to the sway of her hips, as she all but sashayed towards him. His heart nearly beat out of his chest, when the hand not currently holding her rifle, came to lightly rest against his chest; her fingertips ever so near the opening of his collar, and the withered skin that was hidden beneath.

Nora raised an eyebrow, and her smile turned wicked.

“See anything you like?” she teased.

“Yeah,” he croaked out, before his brain caught up.

Hancock internally cringed at the look of surprise that flitted across Nora's face, and immediately started to wrack his brain for something to make it right.

He enjoyed her company too much, valued her unexpected friendship too highly, to risk it on some stupid crush and the fact he couldn't take a joke.

Because there was no way Nora was being serious by up once over, right?! But then, her gaze inexplicably softened, and her hand wandered up to cup the side of his face.

“John...”

Whatever else Nora was going to say, was lost beneath the sound of gunfire. The pair dived for shelter behind the nearby ruins of a car, as a pack of raiders descended on them. In the dash for cover, they both stumbled, the redhead landing almost on top of him.

Hancock was certain his heart stopped as Nora took a split second to look up at him through her lashes, before grinning fiercely, then popping up to take out the two nearest assholes that had disturbed their moment.

Hancock couldn't help but chuckle, as she ducked back down cursing the sun in her eyes, and quickly deposited his tricorn hat on her head, as he moved passed her to take out yet another raider.

 


	5. If I Can't Have You

Hancock sighed, setting the Jet canister on the coffee table, before leaning back on the threadbare sofa. Wan sunlight filtered through the moth eaten curtains, particles of dust floating in the humid air.

Nora sat beside him, her auburn waves pulled into a high ponytail, wearing his coat and little else... unfortunately, it was thanks to a miss timed shot by MacCreedy; that had left her soaked with super mutant blood and guts, rather than any of the fantasies Hancock couldn't quite get out of his mind.

It was so late at night, that Daisy had actually closed up shop, leaving Nora with no place to buy a change of clothes; which was why Hancock was struggling to stop himself from oogling the creamy skin, that peek out from beneath the coat whenever she moved... and that was before he even processed that the redheaded bombshell was wearing _his_ clothes.

Which was why he'd turned to Jet instead of his beloved Mentats; to try and calm the hell down.

Unfortunately, Jet had the tendency to make him rather loose lipped. And as he rolled his head to look at Nora directly, the small part of his brain that hadn't gotten high yet, knew that whatever he was about to say would be a really bad idea.

“Hey, if you've got time, there's... something I still need you to hear.”

“I've always got time for you,” Nora replied, without missing a beat. “Everything alright?”

“Oh yeah, better than that. This is just... tricky,” Hancock admitted, already feeling foolish despite his buzz. “It's just... being out there with you, it's made me realise... most of my life to this point, I've been running out on the good things I got.”

Nora shifted on the couch, and fully turned to him then. She tucked her long legs beneath herself, her left arm resting on the back of the sofa, her head propped up on her hand; whilst her right still loosely held her glass of neat whiskey.

The coat had shifted as she moved, revealing ample cleavage that Hancock was desperately trying not to look at... Nora deserved more than that from him.

Her brow furrowed, and her full red lips pouted in the irresistible way they did, whenever the redhead was utterly confused.

“What do you mean?”

Hancock sighed. “I skipped out on my family, my life in Diamond City. Took up with you, just to get outta Goodneighbour. Hell! Running from myself is what made me into... into a damn Ghoul. But being here with you, for the first time in my life, things have just felt... right.”

Unexpectedly, the hand Nora had been using to prop up her head, was reaching for his cheek. His whole body stiffened. Hancock held his breath, as the back of her slender fingers gently stroked his withered skin. He waited for the look of disgust, or for Nora to recoil in horror; whilst desperately fighting the urge to embarrass himself further, by leaning into her touch.

But her revulsion never came, in fact she scooted closer, before cupping his cheek in the palm of her hand. He didn't let her speak though, too scared of what she might say; terrified she'd suddenly come to her sense, and tell him she no longer wanted him around... or worse, that she thoughy he was about to let her down.

“And you know running, it's the furthest thing from my mind,” he continued, quickly. “I mean, I left Goodneighbour thinking I was gonna just sharpen up the ol' killer instinct. But whether it's fate or destiny, or just god damn coincidence... I ended up with someone like you.

I turned one of the nastiest settlements in the Commonwealth into a refuge for the lost. I thought I had done something I could hang my hat on. But being out there with you, it's made me realise just how small time I'd been thinking.”

He paused, his fingers twitching to reach for the Jet again, before deciding he was already embarrassing himself enough... he didn't need anymore help. Still, he found himself adding:

“Also, I figured that maybe all my running, from my life, myself... maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.

“John! You've done something amazing here with Goodneighbour!” Nora admonished, gently. “But running from yourself? What do you mean?”

Hancock fidgeted uncomfortably, wondering what on earth possessed him to opening up so much. Of course he trusted Nora unlike any other person he'd even known, even Fahrenheit, but that still didn't explain why his drug addled mind decided it was a good idea to unload all this on her.

Nora had more on her plate than anyone he'd ever met, and she held it together spectacularly... she didn't need his baggage.

He also hadn't a clue how she'd stopped herself recoiling, from the feel of his mottled skin; she was damn good actress not to let her repulsion show... not that it stopped him from taking her perfect dainty hand, and holding it in his disgustingly gnarled ones however; and still Nora didn't pull away.

She was an angel, or a saint... or just plain crazy.

“Well... I mean, I didn't always look this good,” Hancock tried to joke, but it didn't feel right lying to Nora. “The drug that did this to me, made me a Ghoul... I knew what it was going to do,” he admitted, quietly. “I just couldn't stand looking at the bastard I saw in the mirror anymore.

The coward who'd let all those Ghouls from Diamond City die. Who was too scared to protect his fellow drifters from Vic and his boys. If I took it, I'd never have to look at him again. I could put all that behind me, I'd be free. Didn't seem like a choice at all. Turns out it was just me running from somethin' else in my life.”

“You really see yourself like this?” she asked, sounding surprisingly sad, as she squeezed his fingers tightly. “You may have run, but you always ran for a reason, John.”

He swallowed passed the unexpected lump in his throat. “Been trying to convince myself of that for a long time, but hearing that coming from someone like you... I don't know if you understand what that means to me.”

When she went to argue, he stupidly pressed a finger to her soft lips.

“Let me get to the point," he said, nervously. "Throwing in with you has been the best decision I've ever made. It's like I found a part of myself I never realised was missing... which happens sometimes when you're a Ghoul.”

Nora frowned at his self-deprivation, so Hancock hurriedly added:  
  
“If I hadn't taken up with you, I'd probably be in the gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by radroaches.”

The redhead gave a disapproving huff, her warm breath caressing his disfigured finger, before she leant over and set her mostly forgotten glass on the coffee table. With her other hand now free, she captured his offending one, and actually laced their fingers together.

Hancock was blown away, trying to wrap his head around why she would _want_ to willingly touch him; and he knew his brain would probably hurt worse, if he hadn't taken any drugs!

“There is absolutely no way you'd have ended up in a gutter,” Nora argued. “You're too damn smart for that... and no, no arguing. You staged a coup and turned Goodneighbour into a safe haven, that takes brains. And besides that, you do have others besides me that care about you. Daisy, Fahrenheit, K-L-E-O...”

She trailed off, her eyes narrowing slightly; even leaning back to scrutinise him. “You're building a god damn harem aren't you?!”

Whatever Hancock had expected from her look, _that_ comment certainly hadn't been it. It startled a laugh out of him, loud and genuine, that left Nora beaming; as if she was proud of herself for getting that reaction from him.

For some reason, thinking the amazing woman in front of him actually cared about him, enough to actively try and cheer him up... it made his heart beat a little faster, and his stomach flutter like a bad romance novel. Hancock was certain it was Nora's effect on him; he hadn't inhaled enough Jet for that to happen... yet.

Still, the drug had addled his brain enough, that he suddenly realised he was stroking her knuckles with his thumbs; her hands still firmly linked with his. Hancock cleared his throat self-consciously, before steeling himself to look directly into Nora's stunning green eyes.

“I know I run my mouth,” he told her. “But having someone else who sees the world for what it is, and is willing to do something about it... it's meant a lot to me. I feel damn lucky to have you as a friend, and you've been one hell of a friend.”

“And that's what we are, friends?”

Nora was smirking that sultry smile that she often directed at Nick, when they were messing around, and Hancock felt his stomach do another stupid flip.

As a rule, he tried to avoid flirting with Nora; they still had their own banter occasionally laced with innuendo... especially if that god awful Danse was anywhere nearby... but Hancock tried not to get too flirty with her. Scared he'd be a little too honest, a little too invested, a little too hopeful that she actually meant what she said.

But when she raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, obviously waiting for some sort of reply, his mouth acted before his brain had gotten into gear.

“Well... now that you mention it, I have been having slightly more impure thoughts than usual. Maybe we'll get to... act on those.”

Hancock chuckled nervously, even as he silently berated himself. That was just... awful.

The first half could have easily been passed off as a bit of harmless flirting, it wasn't too dissimilar to the rapport Nora had with Nick. But the latter part... well, he knew if she thought for one moment about it, Nora would figure out the honesty, the desire, the stupid hope.

Though hopefully she'd just ignore it, pass it off as the Jet talking, and be none the wiser about his pathetic... _huge_... crush he had on her.

Just in case, he dropped his eyes back to their hands; so he could avoid her inquisitive gaze. But this was Nora, and of course she noticed.

“Have you ever thought about us as maybe more than just friends?” she asked, calmly.

Another nervous chuckle escaped him. Where would he even start with answering that?

Mentioning he'd been fantasising about her from the moment he saw her stride confidently into his town... and not just the after dark activities either. But things as pathetic as her cuddling up on a sofa with him; reading out loud one of those books she loved so much.

Or that her radiant smile brightened his day. That he missed her... pined if you asked Fahrenheit, but that was a lie... whenever she left him behind.

That in the early hours of the morning, when his current drug of choice had worn off, that he could admit to himself that he didn't just have a crush on her... but had stupidly fallen in love with her.

Perhaps he should mention that none of it mattered, because he knew his place, and knew he was just damn lucky she wanted him as a friend... that she didn't need to worry about any other feelings he had for her, because it was his problem and he wouldn't burden her with it.

But then he chanced glancing up at Nora, and found her giving him a look that made Hancock know his silence had actually told her everything he didn't want her finding out.

“It that obvious?” he smiled, half-heartedly. “But come on... I know you don't want to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I care for.”

“And if I've fallen for you?”

The way Nora said it, so calm and collected... not even a hint of nerves... like she was announcing the most obvious and natural thing in the world, had Hancock's head snapping up in shock.

He searched her face, looking for that gorgeous smirk of hers, telling him she was teasing... though he'd never known Nora to be cruel, even to her enemies.

But all he saw was her looking at him open and honest, like she actually meant what she said, and didn't care what anyone thought about it. Hancock just couldn't wrap his head around it.

“Wouldn't expect that kind of lapse in judgement from you...”

He also wouldn't have expected Nora to move so suddenly, letting go of his hands and effortlessly straddling his hips... she moved as graceful as a cat.

Her bare thighs settled either side of his; the top button of the coat opening, revealing a black lacy bra that brilliantly contrasted the red of his favourite coat, and the ivory of her skin. 

Hancock swallowed audibly, wondering when he hell he was going to be unlucky enough to wake up, because this was obviously too good to be true. And if it was real, just went to show how much bull karma was... because no one like him should be so lucky.

“John, are you kidding me?!” Nora asked, her voice low... dangerous almost. “You are one of the best men I have ever met, in _either_ life! You are ridiculously kind and generous, you go out of your way to help people, you're more forgiving than pretty much anyone I've ever met. And that's all before I get to the fact your possibly the sexiest man I've ever seen.”

Hancock scoffed at that, wondering what the hell Nora had taken... especially without him knowing. He'd seen the sole surviving photograph of her wedding, back before the bombs, a photo of a radiant looking Nora and her late husband; Nate.

With his tall height, broad shoulders, full head of dark... albeit greying... hair. Chiselled good looks, with a well trimmed beard, and dressed in a pristine officers uniform; the man had been a poster child for the perfect male specimen... and Nora was calling _him_ sexy.

“Love... I've seen your wedding photo,” he sighed. “You don't have to say that sort of nonsenses. Just being able to see passed my looks is enough.”

He didn't say it to offend her, just wanted her to know she didn't have to lie. However, Nora stared at him in utter confusion for a moment, before outright glaring.

Her hands gripped the sides of his face, tighter than he expected her to, and leant into his space. If he still had one, their noses would been touching, as her eyes burned into his.

“You listen to me, John Hancock,” Nora hissed. “I know what Nate looked like, he was a good looking man, but he wasn't you. And _you_ are god damn gorgeous! So stop trying to sell me the self-deprivation bull, I don't buy it. I know what I see and feel when I look at you, and I guarantee, it isn't whatever the hell is going on in your head.”

She paused, letting out an angry breath, before resting her forehead against his. “I'm sorry I fell for the confident lady-killer front you put up,” she continued, gently. “If I'd known half of what went on inside your head, I'd have done... something. So much bloody more than I have done, to make you realise...”

Nora sighed again, and pulled away slightly to look him in the eye. “You're amazing, John. You're kind, generous, funny, intelligent, reliable, honest... gorgeous, sexy... you have a great butt.”

Hancock huffed out a disbelieving laugh. Nora grinned.

“Yeah, I've been checking you out,” she chuckled. “And I like what I see, I have from the start. You've been a damn good friend, John. Besides Nick, you're my best friend. But I'm selfish, I want more.”

He smiled at her confession. “No complaints here, love. As long as you're sure.”

Nora's grin turned wicked, as she leant into his space once more. Hancock swallowed audibly, as her warm breath ghosted over his mouth, her plush lips hovering mere millimetres above his much thinner ones. Her voice practically purred as she seductively replied:

“Perfectly...”

 


	6. Dead Ringer for Love

Hancock marvelled at the woman below him, his dark eyes following the reverent path his gnarled hand took over her perfect, porcelain skin. His other was buried in her gorgeous auburn hair, the strands like silk against his weathered skin.

Just how he'd gotten so lucky, Hancock wasn't sure.

But Nora had made no protest when he'd picked her up; her stunning toned legs wrapping around his waist, as he carried her to his bed. And despite knowing just how tough his pre-war pin-up was, Hancock lay Nora gently on the covered mattress, as if she was the most precious thing in the world... because to him, she was.

He'd marvelled at easily she let him shed her clothes, and how she'd practically _admired_ him, as he revealed his mangled body to her. Her vivid emerald eyes had gone hooded as she watched him, and her lustful, whiskey flavoured kisses had drove him to distraction.

Though somehow, Hancock had managed to regain enough wits about him to have Nora moaning his name. His hands, lips, tongue all devoted to bringing her pleasure; taking his time to explore her stunning body, to learn what made her writhe, made her sigh... even what made her giggle.

Nora was nothing short of amazing, yet _somehow_ , she decided he was worth her time. Not only as her friend, which was already more than Hancock had ever expected, but also as something more... she wanted him as her lover, and although he was still stunned by that revelation, he was certain Nora meant it for more than a night.

So Hancock poured everything he could into pleasing her, again and again... she was giving him this remarkable chance, and he sure as hell wasn't going to blow it on a substandard performance. If he had his way, Nora would be so blissed out, she would barely remember her own name.

However, after the third time she'd shuddered and gasped out his name; her softness spasming around his fingers, as his tongue languidly lapped at her most sensitive bundle of nerves, easing Nora through her orgasm, Hancock reluctantly pulled away from her core.

He kissed up her stomach; paying special attention to the silvery stretch marks... the boy wasn't even his, but that didn't stop Hancock from marvelling at what Nora had done. He kissed up her sternum, the column of her throat, along her jaw; lovingly stroking her breasts, as he propped himself above her.

Which was how Hancock found himself marvelling at Nora as she lay below him, her hair fanned out like a fiery halo. Her plump bottom lip caught distractingly between her still white, as she watched him with hooded eyes.

“Last chance, Sunshine,” he whispered, in warning.

It might kill him if she turned him away now, as he brushed up against her tantalising heat, but if Nora really did change her mind, he'd respect her wishes. Though relief quickly swept through Hancock's body, when she raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow him.

“You're kidding?” she asked, incredulous.

Without warning, Nora moved quickly; somehow managing to reverse their positions, as she proudly perched above him. Hancock had never seen anything or anyone look so divine, and he ran his mangled hands across her flawless skin in wonder.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice a purr.

“Fuck, yeah...”

His words were more of a groan as she brushed her heat along his hardness, but it seemed it was all the encouragement she needed. Hancock swore he saw stars when Nora deftly slid down the length of him; obviously more than ready from their earlier activities.

She felt... _amazing_.

As she pushed up on her knees, then dropped back down; her full breasts bouncing enticingly with each movement, Hancock was certain he could die a happy man. Nora was _everything_ to him, he knew that, without a shadow of a doubt.

The way she splayed her smooth hands across his pock-marked chest, without even a hint of revulsion, awed him; even through the heat and tightest he felt building, as Nora picked up her pace.

She was incredible... insane probably, but incredible.

And when Nora looked at him, gorgeous lips quirked in a smug smirk, as she took him to the hilt once more, Hancock knew he was a goner. Not just because his orgasm hit harder than any he'd ever felt before, but because he knew for certain, he loved the crazy woman.

 


	7. Anything for Love

Magnolia had just finished her last song of the evening, but the atmosphere in the third rail was still buzzing. Nora and Hancock had stumbled in there almost in celebration for their earlier activities; he'd never had a post-sex date before, but for his crazy dame, Hancock figured he could roll with it.

Honestly, he half expect it to be a one time thing... mind blowing and soul defining in a way that Hancock didn't really want to examine... but still a one time thing. Because despite Nora's declaration, he just couldn't believe she really felt the same as he did about her, that she'd really want to wake up to his ugly mug every morning.

He must have said something stupid whilst his brain was still hazy from his climax, because Nora had suddenly jumped from the bed and wrapped his sheet around her. He did remember snorting from amusement, when Nora had hollered to Fahrenheit, asking to borrow some clothes because she needed to 'prove something to certain stupid mayor'.

Hancock had been lazily dressing himself when Nora had waltzed back in, wearing skin tight jeans and a checked shirt that strained over her ample bust, leaving a lot of cleavage on show. She looked amazing. However, he'd barely had time to grab his coat, before she pulled him down to the bar.

She'd held his hand the entire way, and most of his guards gave them appraising looks as they passed, a few of them giving him sly winks. Hancock knew they probably looked as well fucked as he felt, Nora's lips were certainly still kiss swollen, and her auburn hair was definitely tussled enough to paint a picture.

Ham had grinned at them when they reached the Third Rail, and in a moment of madness, Hancock had draped his arm around Nora's shoulders. Not in the friendly way he'd always done, but something more possessive, as he tugged her close to his side. Part of him wondered if he was reading into the hand holding a little too much, until the crazy woman beamed at him. Like she was proud for people to see them together.

Chuckling, Hancock had escorted Nora down to the bar, just as Magnolia stepped off the stage. The singer blinked at them for a moment, before grinning like that cat in the book Nora liked so much. She'd drummed on the bar, bringing everyone's attention to them. Hancock had felt frozen for a moment, worried it would be too much, too many people... more than Nora wanted to deal with... until she'd tugged the front of his shirt, pulling him down for a steamy kiss right there in front of everyone.

Surprisingly, Whitechaple Charlie called for a round on the house, and Hancock had wondered if someone had hacked the bot. But then again, the only he knew smart enough to pull that stunt had her fingers threaded with his, as she pulled him to the bar. And his concerns had been completely dismissed, when the cranky Brit stated it was 'about damn time', before setting a bottle of whiskey and two glasses in front of them.

Half way through the bottle, an idea started to form in Hancock's mind, and after another quarter, he figured he had nothing to lose. People were still trying to cajole Magnolia into doing another set, despite it being well passed her clocking off point, and he was still riding high on the knowledge that _yes_ , Nora did want to be with him. Long term.

That giddy buzzy, along with the dutch courage of whiskey, had Hancock kissing his lady's hand before walked up on stage. Okay, so it was more like swaggered, but when he had a woman like Nora wanting him, _loving_ him, how could he help it? As he curled his hand around the microphone, the crowd went wild. Hancock chuckled, rich and low. It'd been a long time since he'd pulled this particular stunt.

“I don't want to set the world on fire, I just want to start a flame in your heart,” he began to croon.

The song had been a favourite of his parents, he remembered that, something that was requested on the radio for every anniversary. And despite turning his back on his family, and his life in Diamond City, the song was something fond he'd held onto. So Hancock swaggered, prowled and jigged around the tiny stage, even grabbing a hubflower off the bar, and twirling it around as he sung. Occasionally, he stole glances at Nora, finding her watching him almost mesmerised each time... and didn't _that_ do things for his ego and his performance.

However, when it came to the end of the song, Hancock found he didn't want to show-boat. In the most honest and raw act he'd ever done in public, he strolled over and dropped to one knee in front of her... if Nora really meant she wanted him, this wasn't going to blow up in his face... right?

“Darling, I have only one desire, and that one desire is you. And I know, nobody else ain't gonna do.”

As he finished, Hancock held up the flower to her. “I know it's no fancy ring, Sunshine, but...”

Nora's stunning eyes opened comically wide, as she obviously understood what he was asking. She reached down from her perch on the bar stool, and wrapped her hand around his that was holding the hubflower.

“John,” she breathed. “Are you asking...”

“Marry me?” he interrupted, excitement and nerves building.

Nora, famed and respected leader of the Minutemen, _squealed_. Actually, honest to whatever god might be up there, squealed, before she launched herself at him. Laughing, Hancock caught her, his arms hugging her close, as he stood and spun her round. The crowd was deafening by then, and he had to shout his question again, just to be sure.

“YES!” Nora yelled back.

She crashed her full lips into his thin ones, and Hancock knew there was no such thing as karma. He just shouldn't be so lucky... but he wasn't going to complain. Laughing, he picked her up to spin her again, and this time her legs wrapped securely around his waist.

“Nora Hancock... it's got a ring to it,” he drawled, grinning.

“That's _Mrs_ Hancock to you,” she teased. “So, think we can sneak into Diamond City tonight to make this official.”

Hancock laughed. “Well, Sunshine, let's get this freak show on the road.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OisJ1gu-ZPE


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